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[21 Oct 2006|01:58am] |
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music |
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"Paid" by the Supersuckers |
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It's absurd, really. With each passing month, I update less and less. Occasionally a manic period will come wherein lies a few swift posts, but those periods are quickly relegated to nostalgia's realm.
That actually sounds ridiculously horrid. Regardless, I feel almost guilty having said it (though obviously not guilty enough to delete it).
Anyway, do you ever find yourself associating things from one artistic medium to something in another artistic medium? You'll have to branch out with me momentary and assume human life, or, more specifically and accurately, human experiences can be categorized as art.
It's a large hypothetical, I know, but I think it equates well. Of course, I'm a deluded son of a bitch with a penchant for artistic expression, which sounds about as vague as possible, but is considerably less if you could see the subtext in my mind that isn't really able to be presented a la words, particularly Internet words. Run-on.
I was looking at the cover to American Gods by Neil Gaiman (which interestingly enough still had the receipt in it from when I bought it [02/12/05] because I use things like that as bookmarks) and it just parallels what few emotions I've felt of recent and the cementing of the abstract concept of my life put into a single symbolic frame.
I'm not making sense, but I swear I haven't been drinking, which is, of course, a first.
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[16 Aug 2006|03:52am] |
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"Long Time" by the Roots |
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There are some moments, particularly at 4 a.m. while listening to, say, a pirated advance copy of the new Roots album even though you've preordered it, when you just can't help but smile indulgently.
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[30 Jul 2006|03:28am] |
For two years, I've strived to shed myself of that angsty, angry teenager that I use to be: that sadistic, irrational carapace. Though extremely far from perfect, I've become this repressed, mildly passive, mostly agreeable. . . I'm done.
I want my rage back. I want ambition, irreverence, a black-and-white perspective. I'm sick of being understanding. Well, that's not true. I just wish I could harness some of the misplaced passion I had when I was younger and allocate it to worthy and reasonable things.
It's just funny -- in the transition, I just aimed for apathy and rationality, and now all I want is my, I don't know, energy back.
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[23 Jul 2006|05:47pm] |
All right. As a preface, I'm writing all this because I just need somewhere to get it all down, get it all out. I'm not playgrounding pity or whatever else.
About a week and a half ago, I bought a pug puppy. For those of you that actually know me at all, you know that I've been waiting for quite a long time to get a dog, especially a pug.
Cut to the next afternoon, my father had some routine back surgery scheduled for that Friday. The day that I bought the puppy, he went in for some routine check-up stuff to make sure he could withstand the surgery, which included a colonoscopy. That Thursday, the day before his surgery and the day after I bought my pug, they called my father to tell him that the results of the colonoscopy indicated that he had colorectal, or colon, cancer in stage IIb, which means that the tumor has already completely breached the organ wall and, with all probability, will soon advance to the third stage of four, which is when it becomes fatal.
My parents are far from rich. In fact, they barely scrounge enough to be deemed middle class. This is where the next problem comes in: I need to sell this dog for something remotely close to what I paid for her in order to make some sort of return and help pay for the abundance of current and future bills that this will cause my family.
The following Monday, almost immediately after my four-plus hour oral surgery, my mother calls me to tell me that my uncle, who has undergone several surgeries to remove the football sized tumor weaving amongst the parts of his knee, has had his left leg amputated and part of his left hip removed as a result of blood clots/blood loss during the most recent surgery.
Also, my birthday is soon. I'm not saying how soon because I hate making a big deal about my birthday and things, but I did expect it to be a little, you know, not as bad as this.
So, you know, if anyone knows anyone with disposable funds that wants a puppy? Send them here. goodbyerocknroll@gmail.com / (419) 651-9979
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| Now we grieve 'cause now is gone. |
[15 Jun 2006|01:07am] |
The wind clenches down
Extraditing these words
From a charred esophagus.
Nostalgia eats eraser dust
As old pages flutter on fire.
A dimly lit patio seethes
With a cigarette's frustration
And an old stomach demon.
Substandard deviance delves
Into Johnnie Walker and ice.
Binary blood and stiff keys
Click, correct, click,
And delusions return.
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[18 May 2006|01:05am] |
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"In This Town" by the Murder City Devils |
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It's been a long time since I've felt a draw to the past. I've put a lot of it behind me. Sometimes, though, after a bit of Jameson's and a couple Camels, it all floods back. I doubt I'll even worry about it tomorrow, but tonight it's everything.
When you've got a metaphorical wrap sheet as long as mine, the regret can layer on your back. It's a tough game. A lot of what keeps me from building coherent, consistent relationships these days is remembering the monster I turned into days past. I don't mean strictly romantic relationships, but those are certainly a major factor. It's sounds so cliche and absurd, especially purging them into some online journal, but it doesn't really ease the thoughts. I've changed my thought process, my actions, my whatever, but the history is always there. The fear of a philosophical remission is always there. Certainly I can still be a prick if you catch the wrong side of me, but it's so desperately seldom anymore. . . I'm still worried.
I've put a lot of people through a lot of shit, and this isn't some call to hope they stumble upon this shit entry or something lame like that. Sometimes you just hear a Discount song or play Katamari Damacy or visit Ashland and what you've worked so long to shed feels so much closer.
This is nonsensical (I'm taking the easy road and blaming the hookah bar and Rolling Rock), but occasionally an outlet is just. . . necessary and dire.
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[14 May 2006|02:25am] |
The constant lager of returning vice,
The listless wonder of discerning mice
Picking the corpse of residual internment:
Of harsh slang, antiquated woes, violation.
Lackluster penchant for the bitterly dramatic,
a new feeling of actions ambivalent and erratic.
The lights turn red as your muffler purges;
Old habits in hiatus -- it quietly emerges.
Desperation in the depth of six beers;
The disease of shitty DVD reappears.
And fated nuances arise like a phoenix --
High school is closer than the River Styx.
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[13 May 2006|02:49am] |
This desperate integration becomes
The morning glory segregation of
Old friends, new qualms and transfer.
Borderline personality, brand new tech;
The whistful burning of pensive tobacco.
A poetic edge lost for an elimination --
When shedding useless constraints,
Lost some good, anesthetic inevitability.
A harsh nudge toward mediocre urges
Juxtaposed with failing livers and lungs:
A beginning and an end tightly woven.
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[26 Apr 2006|02:18am] |
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cheerful |
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"Adrenaline" by the Roots |
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the Wit
(66% dark, 19% spontaneous, 15% vulgar)
your humor style:
CLEAN | COMPLEX | DARK
You like things edgy, subtle, and smart. I guess that means you're probably an intellectual, but don't take that to mean pretentious. You realize 'dumb' can be witty--after all isn't that the Simpsons' philosophy?--but rudeness for its own sake, 'gross-out' humor and most other things found in a fraternity leave you totally flat.
I guess you just have a more cerebral approach than most. You have the perfect mindset for a joke writer or staff writer.
Your sense of humor takes the most thought to appreciate, but it's also the best, in my opinion.
You probably loved the Office. If you don't know what I'm talking about, check it out here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/theoffice/.
PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Jon Stewart - Woody Allen - Ricky Gervais
My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
You scored higher than 86% on darkness
You scored higher than 1% on spontaneity
You scored higher than 5% on vulgarity
If you liked my test, send it to your friends!
The 3 Variable Funny Test
http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=17565214125862764376
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[18 Apr 2006|04:45am] |
Ah, a Livejournal entry. I believe it was sometime on Friday night at the Smiling Skull that this entry was more or less promised, but I am ever the procrastinator.
I've been reading a lot lately, not that I don't normally. The weather has been the catalyst to my sitting outside (even, against my better judgment, on Scripps' hill). I read the entirety of The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, a Chabon novel that was good, but would have been better if I'd read it prior to The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, and The Da Vinci Code, which was, by and large, severely worse than its immense sales would lead you to believe. I started Never Let Me Go by Ishiguro Kazamajamababa (read: Japanese name I don't remember), read the bulk of Naked Pictures of Famous People or whatever the Jon Stewart book that isn't America is called and have finished about half of Thank You for Smoking, which the semantics of my pet peeves dictate I shouldn't have bought because of the movie artwork on the cover (yes, I am a pompous prick).
We had a cookout a la the community grills of the shit-infested University Commons on Saturday night. It made for a nice change from the overcrowed, under-beer-ed cockfests that usually litter the campus. Very laid back, very plush. I am, of course, the most phenomenal barbecutionist to have ever stepped foot in Athens, Ohio. I'd never grilled on a charcoal grill before, but it ended very well. We made boca burgers, herb-and-garlic-marinated chicken, the obligatory hot dogs and foccacia bread/chipotle cheddar/turkey grilled sandwiches. That, of course, leaves out my two types of wonderful pasta salad and the eggs that I dyed (plus the copious sum of cheap-ass beer that filled the bottom of my fridge as well as a cooler). Also, courtesy of the gratious Dana, we made s'mores after the coals burnt down.
I've been inexplicably social lately. I'm not sure if I'm happy about that or put off guard. It's led to a plethora of my drunken antics, obviously. Perhaps that's why I spent most of the day trying to remember the word "caveat," which only the brisk, but nice, air under the three-quarters moon of a clear night could retrieve. People are forcefully degenerating my vocabulary. Can "degenerate" even be used in the active voice? Filthy people.
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[24 Mar 2006|06:04am] |
My eyes hurt like I haven't slept in days, but I've only been up for about twelve hours. Should probably nap before work so that I don't just come home and crash.
God forbid I appear with any less wit and fewer recommendations for the lovely comic-book shoppers that do my bidding. Transmetropolitan makes me talk in awkward sentences and sentence fragments. Better than Preacher, which leaves me talking like an extra in Deliverance.
I'm not good at doing laundry. Shrunk the majority of my clothing, including a Winter jacket and all three of my Murder City Devils shirt. Also, lost three socks, all which were part of different pairs. Bastards.
Been writing pseudo regularly for a comic e-zine that relaunchs in early April. I like being part of the press; I forgot the power that comes with a press pass, even if it is only to mediocre tiny comicons in Dayton. Maybe I'll see Teddy Davey. He won't see me -- probably left his glasses at school. I guess inside jokes don't work on Livejournal. Fuck. I'm thinking about going to the gigantic comicon in Chicago at the beginning of August. Then my press pass will allow me brass balls and first dibs on whatever mediocre con exclusives they have. I'll sell them at the shop.
I have an Incredible Hulk PEZ popper. I very much want to play Metroid Prime: Hunters. I'll leave with quotes. I've been on a Mencken kick lately:
"A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin."
"An idealist is one who, on noticing that roses smell better than cabbage, concludes that it will also make better soup."
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[18 Feb 2006|08:44pm] |
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contemplative |
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"Kindness for Weakness" by Dilated Peoples feat. Talib Kweli |
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( Nothing important. )
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[06 Feb 2006|03:12am] |
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quixotic |
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Von Bondies |
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Ah, one of the sparse entries arrives.
Winter Quarter is always a bitch no matter what, but this year is enough to make me impale myself. For some reason, I overlooked the fact that I had to take Journalism 221, so I had to take it this quarter. I'm pretty sure this was one of the classes that drove Dan nuts, and now I completely empathize. If I thought I could get away with it, I would destroy him with some sci-fi-esque weapon. Or maybe just an pistol. Plus, it's my first 8 am ever, which makes it all the worse.
Lately, as often comes with Winter, I've had these. . . lost feelings. Maybe not "lost," that makes it sound like a HIM song (which is not good). Sometimes it's the incredibly cliche thought process about the elusive future. I guess I am almost a three-quarters done with college. I was looking up jobs for shits on Monster.com the other night, and it's kind of overwhelming. That eventually snowballs down the slippery slope and turns to affording moving to wherever, finding an apartment in that wherever, etc. It's a bunch of mind boggling nonsense that will eventually sort itself out, but it just seems so impossible right now.
I got a job writing for an e-zine. That should be fun. We haven't really talked about pay, yet, but I'm pretty sure I get partially reimbursed for buying comics. I was kind of hoping that we'd make it .rss feed based, but apparently it's going to function more like an actual magazine and only be released once a month.
Everyone I know's been weird lately, and polar opposites. Some have been really pushing away, and some have been really clingy. I'm not sure that either is an especially good thing. I wish there was just a strict middleground.
Ok, I really need a shower. Congrats, Steelers fans. From what I can gather, they won. I wonder if anyone fell off their balconies outside. . . sounds like it's time for a smoke break.
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| Strangely accurate. |
[04 Dec 2005|09:19am] |
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JfC took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "His need to feel more causative and to have a wide..."
Click here to read the rest of the results.
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[22 Nov 2005|03:07am] |
I never update this anymore, and I can't remember, even through the sparse entry days, when the last actually entry was. I'm not even sure there's every been a serious entry. Whatever.
I had my last final today, and now I'm done until the beginning of January. I'm still not sure where I'll be when on break. I'm half enthused about going back to Ashland, but not seriously. You can't really expect much from there, especially not when you haven't been actually involved in a good couple years, arguably ever. Sometimes it's hard to remember things, which is the most abstract way of saying that my memory fails me when I try to recollect great memories. I'm not being dramatic and I'm certainly not saying that there are no good memories; I just can't remember them without some cue or my increasingly disjointed stream of consciousness bumping into them. I'm not sure why I'm staying down here the two extra days between my last final and Thanksgiving, especially considering my Playstation 2, AKA my only manner of watching DVDs, broke a week or two back and my mind still can't justify buying an Xbox 360. What's worse is that I haven't written anything short of disgusting in as long as I can remember and I've read everything that I have 80 million times. I've been rereading Tolstoy and Saul Williams and the two are juxtaposing strangely well in my head. Anna Karenina's inquisition toward damnation ala depravity and adultery and , said the shotgun to the head's awkward imagery and ADD-satiating subject changes. Mm-mm, good.
On a lighter note, my interest in music piracy via the luxuriously vast world wide web has risen to peak heights as of late. Digital Underground, Goodie Mob, Black Halos, Dilated Peoples rarities, Dntel, Minor Threat's complete discography, Backyard Babies, etc. -- I'm making you all my bitch. One immensely large bitch with a membership bigger than a ska band.
It's really strange: this year, I'm incredibly excited about X-mas. I've been emasculating candy canes and downing PEZ from my favorite snowman like nobody's worthless business. I mean, come on. I get to listen to 364 Days and Dead by Christmas; I get to go home and have a extended family that's actually genuinely in good spirits; cocktail wienies wrapped in bits of canned crescant dough are readily availaible. Yeah, I'm all over this.
( And where would an entry of mine be without an unsolicited, shitty poetry sample? Answer: nowhere. )
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| Sounds about right. |
[28 Oct 2005|04:01pm] |
 | | The Vapor Trail
Random Brutal Love Master (RBLMm)
Here today, gone today. You are The Vapor Trail. Are you in a relationship now?
Your exact opposite:
The Backrubber
Deliberate Gentle Sex Dreamer
| What about now?
Vapor Trails can be highly charismatic people--unpredictable, confident, and magnetic. You're experienced. You know how to handle yourself in a relationship, and many people appreciate that. Many people, all in a row.
You've had your share of blissful beginnings, to be sure. But things almost never turn out how you'd like, do they? The problem is you're never happy with someone for an extended period of time. Relate to the following:
Vapor Trails especially need a girl who will laugh at their jokes. They're also the most likely male type to be haunted by serious regret.
FACT: A few of your exes, the ones you were best to, will always love you. Nice going.
ALWAYS AVOID: The Intern, The Maid of Honor
CONSIDER: The Sudden Departure |
Link: The 32-Type Dating Test by OkCupid - Free Online Dating.
My profile name: adf24 |
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[26 Aug 2005|02:23am] |
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"The Dream is Over" by the (International) Noise Conspiracy |
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I think I'm the only person in the world that can lose a relationship and be consoled by a dog simulator for a portable video game console.
By my pug is cute, even if it is digital.
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_smokeanddenim's journal